American
Nicolette Turner has a bone to pick with the British. Not only is her country’s
maritime rights being violated, but her English grandfather, Lord Eldredge, demands
that she travel across the Atlantic to visit him. What she doesn’t know is that
he intends for her to marry, thereby staying in England and having lots of
babies.

The
most eligible suitor is neighbor Victor Kincaid. Victor has severe money
problems. Lord Eldredge offers to take care of the debts... if Victor marries
Nicolette. At first Victor believes she’s a fortune-hunter, but soon becomes
captivated by her. Can he convince her he wants more than a marriage of
convenience?

Scene Set-Up:

The
financial arraignments have been made. Victor decides it’s now time to propose
to Nicolette.

Excerpt:

Damn. Asking for this woman’s hand was going to be deuced awkward, to
say the least.

Inhaling
deeply, Victor walked into the drawing room and scanned its yellow interior. A
cheerful fire crackled in the fireplace which stood between two immense
paintings. Just beyond the hearthrug in the middle of the drawing room, a table
displayed the nuncheon meal. Cold meats, cheeses, pickles, jellies, breads, and
fruits--everything a man could want to assuage his hunger. But more important
than food, a crystal decanter of sherry beckoned to him.

It
would have to wait. Where the devil was Nicolette?

The
two settees around the table were empty and not a sound other than the snapping
and popping of flames disturbed the tranquil air.

He
released his breath. Was he supposed to seek her out? “Damn,” he repeated, this
time out loud.

A
movement by the large wing-backed chair near the fireplace caught his
attention. It was Nicolette, so curled within the chair’s comfortable borders
that, from his vantage, he had not seen her.

“Is
something wrong, Lord Cushing? Is the food not to your liking?”

She
looked an odd mixture of mischievousness and grandeur. Her delicately arched
eyebrows were lifted in an indifferent manner, however, the twinkle in her grey
eyes revealed amusement at having caught him in an unguarded moment.

“Er,
no, not at all.” He cleared his throat, then gestured toward the table. “Shall
we?”

Nodding,
she left the chair to pick up a dish. She must not have been very hungry for
she chose only a few cubes of cheese, a biscuit, apple slices, and strips of
pineapple. “I find our host’s hospitality most agreeable. I never expected to
feast on pineapple, quite a costly fruit in these parts Margaret tells me.”
Nicolette chose one of the settees and sat.

He
made a move to pour her a glass of sherry, but she declined the wine.

Pity.
It would have made his ordeal easier if she were a trifle elevated.

He
sat opposite her on the other settee and balanced a full plate on his lap. How
should he begin? “Lady Nicolette--”

“Perhaps
it’s time we called each other by our Christian names.”

He
smiled. She was going to make this easy for him. “Yes. Yes, certainly,
Nicolette. I realize we have not known each other long, however, our families
have been neighbors and friends for close to two hundred years.”

“My
father’s family,” she corrected.

“Yes,
of course.” Why would she even mention her mother’s connections? He ran his
hand over his hair, then took a drink of sherry. “I would have preferred for us
to get better acquainted before...”

“Before
what?”

He
glanced into her earnest eyes. So, she was not going to make it easy.
“Nicolette, as you are aware, shopping is not the sole purpose of being in
London today. It is your grandfather’s wish to bring us... together.”

She
met his gaze unflinchingly. “And he uses his wealth to achieve his ends.”

Victor’s
sentiments exactly, but why protest when he had already agreed to the arrangement?
“As I am in need of funds, as are you, I see no reason to quibble about the
circumstances that unite us in marriage.”

Her
nostrils flaring, she straightened her back. In truth she looked as formidable
as an avenging fury. “Marriage? I must have missed something important. When
did you propose?”

“Damn.”
He did not mean to swear; the word just slipped out--again.

Uncertainty
assailed him. Perhaps she was not as amenable as Lord Eldredge believed. And
yet marriage to Nicolette was a tolerable solution to his dilemma. His sister
Leticia had not registered dissent when Victor had broached the subject, which
was quite a relief, considering her sensibilities. Her departed Stanley had
been close to the poor house, and news of the dwindling Kincaid finances must
have been a topic of great concern to her. With the earl’s backing, Leticia
need never worry about monetary matters again.

Which
was a moot point unless he could win over this termagant. So how should he
handle Nicolette?

Hoping
to gain insight from the sherry’s potent, fortified fumes, he refilled his
glass, then took another sip. As the wine warmed his insides, he thought of her
father, and how Ian would on occasion turn mulish when forced to act contrary
to his inclinations. Victor’s job then, was to convince her that this marriage
was in her own best interests.

“My
dear Nicolette, if I may.” Victor set aside his glass and his plate, then sat
next to her. “You are right. I did not propose--properly or otherwise.” He held
her hand, and was amused to note a pink blush covering her cheeks. “It is my
fervent hope that my offer of marriage will have a favorable reception. I
confess it quite impossible to conceal the anxiety with which I await your
reply.”

She
pulled her hand away. “I-I find that difficult to believe.”

He
reclaimed it, not only to exert control over her, but to be truthful, he
enjoyed the softness of her skin. “My sentiments are bona fide, Nicolette. It
seems my future lies in these delicate hands. As you pointed out at last
Saturday’s dinner party, I have been neglecting my duty to unite with a gently
bred lady in matrimony.”

Her
comment was most unexpected. “Piffle,” she said as she turned away.